Unwanted, Liked, Loved
by Gunnery Sergeant
Summary: AU Slave! fic. Gibbs is given an unwelcome reward for saving the President during "Yankee White", his Personal Companion, one Anthony DiNozzo. Companion story and sequel to "Master, Boss, Jethro" from Gibbs' POV. GibbsXTony SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Unwanted, Liked, Loved**

**By Gunnery Sergeant**

Companion story to "Master, Boss, Jethro"

Thanks to **Finlaure** for the betareading!

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My name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs and as of today I'm the only man in the US allowed to own a slave—and I'm not talking of the kinky, consensual slavery I once read about. I'm talking the real, ugly thing where I have the right to do everything I want to my slave, including killing him.

Now, before you get strange ideas in your head, I want to make clear this is only the second—and probably last—time I will ever refer to Tony as a "slave". I've never considered or treated him as one. The only times I raised my hands to him was to head-slap him, the same thing I do to all my agents when they need a wake-up call.

It wasn't because of my decision that Tony came into my possession. I never approved the White House practice to keep pleasure slaves, and being gifted with one was all _but_ a happy occasion for me. I hate any form of exploitation and I find slavery abhorrent. Yet, it was something I had to swallow down, because there was no way I could refuse the gift the President or some of his advisors had decided to give me.

I remember that day of seven years ago as if it was yesterday.

I was sitting at my desk reviewing a cold case, when Dennis, the mail guy, gave me a thick envelope with the White House emblem on it. I opened it absent-mindedly and briefly scanned it, thinking it was an invitation to some reception, something the President or his staff thought necessary to hand out because I had just prevented the high jacking of the Air Force One. I was already mentally composing a "Thank-you-but-sorry-I can't-come" reply, when I realized the letter I was reading wasn't a dinner invitation.

It said that the President, in his desire to show his appreciation for my actions on Air Force One, had decided to gift me with a Personal Companion, a person who from now on would be devoted to me and would make sure I was happy, cared for and satisfied in all my needs. Included in the envelope there was the official deed of property of my Personal Companion, which I didn't read beyond the first two lines, and a financial statement saying that I'd receive a monthly sum to cover the expenses of supporting my 'reward'.

I guess I lost it then. I grabbed the documents, took the stairs by three and stormed into Tom Morrow's office.

The Director looked up at me from the report he was reading, and the fact he wasn't surprised to see me, told me he probably already knew about it.

"Tell me it's not true, Tom," I told him, showing him the letter.

He took it, smoothed it and scanned it quickly. Then he handed it back to me. "I'm afraid it's true, Jethro."

I almost groaned as he sat down heavily on a chair in front of the desk. "What in the hell possessed the President to give me such…such…"

"Personal gift?" Tom supplied diplomatically.

"If you can call it that…"

"You prevented him being kidnapped by a terrorist. He wanted to reward you."

"That's my job. I don't need a reward and certainly not one of this kind. Tell me, do I look like someone who would welcome such a gift?" I asked, hoping fervently for a negative answer.

"Of course not, Jethro. But I guess the Presidential staff made some searches and discovered…well, you're not currently married…They probably thought you'd welcome some company that wouldn't drag you into yet another divorce suit…"

I bristled as my hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"Great," I growled. "They don't see me as a man who can't keep it in his pants, but as one who isn't able to keep a willing woman in his bed, so needs to be given one who won't be able to leave him."

Tom sighed, "Calm down, Jethro. I'm sure they just wanted to give you something special, and that this choice doesn't imply any personal judgment."

I shook my head, "They used no judgment at all! I don't want to be saddled with a pleasure slave! They're all a bunch of idiots if they thought I'd welcome this 'gift'! Getting Agent Todd was a far greater reward as far as I'm concerned. How is it possible we're governed by such kind of brainless people?"

Tom shook his head. "I see your point, Jethro—and I agree with you. However, I'm afraid you'll have to accept this situation because you can't refuse a Presidential gift."

"No?" I replied, belligerent, rising to my feet. I felt the need to just do that, to pick up the phone and bite the head off of whoever had decided I needed a Personal Companion.

"No." Tom repeated, rising from his desk and giving me a look that said 'That's an order, Agent Gibbs.'

We walked to the door, but before I could open it, Tom put a hand on my forearm and said, "Jethro, if you don't need the person for… personal tasks...you can put them to work in some way. I know Personal Companions are chosen for their intelligence, not just their looks. Who knows, maybe yours will be smart enough to be useful to you here, at NCIS."

I looked at him, surprised but also pleased by the offer. I was short of hands since Vivian Blackadder had left and Stan Burley would soon leave for his Agent Afloat stint. Kate was just a newbie at the investigative job and well, if this Personal Companion of mine turned to smart enough to do some paperwork, that would be very helpful. So I nodded to Tom and opened the door.

There, in the antechamber, I found the Director's Assistant, Claire, and a guy I had had never seen before wearing a visitor pass.

He was tall, well dressed, with brown short hair and green eyes and was looking at me as a child stares at Santa Claus.

My gut churned with dread under that gaze and I barked, "Who are you?"

"Anthony DiNozzo," he answered promptly. "I come from the White House. I was just assigned to Special Agent Gibbs…Is that you, Sir?"

I stiffened, almost not believing what I had just heard. As if wasn't enough they had given me a Personal Companion I didn't want or need, they had…

I turned around to face Tom and hissed, "They gave me a _man_?!"

He raised his hands in a placating gesture, and I've got to admit he looked just as much at a loss as me.

"Evidently someone screwed up, Jethro. And in any case, since you aren't interested in him, a man is probably better than woman. He can do jobs that, let's say it, a chauvinist like you would deem unsuitable for women."

I didn't comment, but I thought he was probably right. Since we would be forced to live together, it was probably better to have a guy around the house than a woman, as long as he didn't try to touch me, in that case I would deck him and teach him quickly to keep his hands to himself.

And speaking of hands, I ordered DiNozzo to show me his. You can get a lot of information by looking at a person's hands. Mine aren't nice, but they are useful, rough, used to work hard.

DiNozzo's instead were soft, smooth, with no calluses, perfectly manicured.

"Soft hands, Tom," I commented with a snort. "I bet he never did a manual job – a _real_ manual job – in his whole life." I then smirked and looking straight into his eyes, I drawled, "That will change soon."

I let go of his hands and walked toward one of the conference rooms. I was almost there when I realized I was alone. I stopped and sighed. DiNozzo would have to learn to anticipate and quickly, otherwise I would end up strangling him…

I twisted my torso to look at him from over my shoulder and growled, "What are you doing, DiNozzo? Waiting for a written invitation? Come with me."

"Yes, Master!" he answered promptly, picking up a bag at his feet and running to catch up with me.

Once alone in the conference room I gestured to him to sit at the table as I paced trying to gather my thoughts.

Fact was that even if I was very, very pissed off, I wasn't mad at DiNozzo, because the poor guy had no responsibility in this. He had had no say in what had been decided for him.

It was in that moment that I stopped thinking about what all this mess meant for me and concentrated on him, fully taking in whom he was and the responsibility I had been given when he was gifted to me.

I'm a very protective man. I always have been, but that had increased after my wife and daughter were killed. I'm also a man that takes responsibility for the people that, in a way or the other, are under my care: family, friends, and co-workers, the men who had served with me and under me in the Corps. DiNozzo was now my responsibility, and thus I felt it was my duty to take care of him too.

I could only guess what he might feel. He had been gifted to a man he had never met, without knowing what kind of person I would be, but fully aware I could do everything I wanted to him. He knew that I could order him to strip down and bend over and take him every time I wanted, in every way I wanted. That I could beat him, hurt him, and even kill him.

I felt sick, nauseous, and my heart filled with compassion for the man looking at me with anxious eyes.

Yet, even so, I couldn't let him see that. My trust doesn't come easily and I had no idea of what kind of man DiNozzo was. So I didn't sugar coat my words. Yeah, I was very blunt, but I'm blunt with everyone, just in case you hadn't already guessed it.

"Let's not mince words, DiNozzo," I began. "I didn't want you and I've no use for your _talents_. First of all, I'm against any form of exploitation. Second, I've no interest in males and I can't understand why _you_ were given to me. I thought they made some researches before choosing the appropriate…gift. Not that the situation would be any different if you were a woman."

He stayed silent, and I went on.

"Now that that is clear, and since you're as stuck with me as I'm with you, you're gonna to work for me, here, at NCIS. One of my agents is gonna move to another post soon, the other is a recent recruit and I'll need help with the paperwork. You think you can do it? Typing reports, doing research in the archives, running computer searches?"

He nodded firmly. "Yes Master, I'm confident I can do it."

"Don't call me master," I bristled. It was degrading, for both of us.

"Sir, then."

"No. I work for a living and was never an officer. Call me Gibbs—or Boss."

He smiled, perhaps liking the idea not to have to use a word that implied the fact he was my possession.

"Okay, Gibbs. Boss."

I stared at his bright, hopeful eyes for a few seconds more, then straightened and moved to the door. "Come on, time to meet you co-workers."

-----

Co-workers…yeah, that's what DiNozzo, all my other agents and myself have been since that very first day.

Without any need to tell it aloud, my team and the other NCIS agents understood that DiNozzo's status would never, ever be mentioned or commented upon and that I would break the legs of anyone who dared to make innuendos about what we might do at home.

DiNozzo started as a simple paper pusher, but since he demonstrated a great aptitude for the job, I soon had Tom require he was sent to attend a course at the FLETC facility in Maryland. He passed all the courses with flying colors.

When he returned, he was given the official rank of Acting Agent. He could never be a Special Agent because of his social status, but it was equally good. After all, as I explained, it was mostly semantic. For the rest of the team, he was just like us, an agent we trusted to have our backs when we were in the field and nobody gave a damn if his stipend was credited on my account or if he needed me to approve and take responsibility for his every action on the job. After all, as supervisory agent and team leader, I had the responsibility of all my agents' actions, so yes; DiNozzo's situation wasn't that different from, Pacci's, Kate's or McGee's.

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	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to **Julie **for her her review. I'm happy you're enjoying this!

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As for our life outside the office, things weren't as easy, at least at the very start.

It was clear that even if I had told him I wasn't interested in his more personal skills, he felt duty bound to offer them—or he didn't fully believe I would not take advantage of what had just been put at my disposal.

The first night I took him home, I showed him around the house and then I took him to the guest room, telling him it would be his room from now on.

"And what if you ever get some guests?" he asked as he stepped inside, putting his bag on the bed.

I didn't get many guests, beside the rare visit of Abby, Ducky or Stan, and only Abbs occasionally slept over, in the guest room—but that wasn't something he needed to know. "They'll sleep on the couch in the living room," I said curtly, as I checked the closet to see if there were towels and blankets.

"Or, maybe, I'll move to your bedroom and leave the guest room to them," DiNozzo said with a smile, moving closer to me, so close I could feel his body warmth.

I turned around sharply and glared at him, "Are you deaf, DiNozzo? Or do you have a faulty memory? I'm not interested in you like that, and it won't change. If I could, I would send you back, but I can't, so we need to adapt." He looked at me with stricken eyes, so I tried to soften my words. "Look, I like you. I sympathize with your situation. It must be hard to be sent to live with a man you don't know, aware of all the things I've the right to do to you. But the point is, I don't want to do any of them. You're my responsibility now, just like my other agents, although in a different way. I'll take care of you and I hope that in due time, when we know each better, we can become friends—even if I don't trust other people easily and anyone can say you I'm not a easy guy. Hell, the second "B" in my surname is for bastard...as you will discover sooner than later. But I'm that way with everyone, so don't take it personally." It was probably the longest speech I had uttered in months, but sometimes there are situations that cannot be addressed in any other way but with words.

"Is that clear?" I asked when he just stared at me, still standing very close.

He nodded, although he was quite pale.

"Good." I made to leave the room when an idea struck in my mind. DiNozzo was a young man in his thirties; probably used to having a lot of sex given his previous _occupation_. Perhaps he was now afraid that with me not wanting him, he would have to be intimate with his right hand only for the rest of his life.

So I faced him again and crossing my arms on my chest I leant against the door frame and said, as gently as I could. "DiNozzo...On the job, I expect you to do your best and obey to me without discussion. Same things I expect from the others. Outside of the office, here, I just ask you to look after yourself, help keeping the house clean, and to share the chores if you want to. I like to be left alone and not be bothered when I'm here, but for the rest I don't mind if you've got hobbies or interests. I'll make sure to give you some of the money I get for your support so you can buy the stuff you like. More importantly, even if I'm not a good company most of the time, you don't have to bear with me after work. You're free to go out, make friends and spend time with whomever you wish. You can have a romantic relationship with any partner of your choice, as long as you keep yourself out of trouble. Okay?"

"Okay," he echoed and I was taken aback by his lack of enthusiasm. But then I realized how difficult and strange the situation had to be for him.

I didn't know how long DiNozzo had been a slave, but I guessed it had been from infancy. So he probably had no concept of what having freedom to do the things he liked meant. Hell, he might not even know what he liked! For most of his life he had served other people's needs and desires and he probably had no idea of that it meant to think of him first.

I knew enough about brainwashing to be aware that a conditioning such the one he had probably received for years could not be brushed away by a few well-meaning words. It would take time and plenty of it.

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I was proven right. It took time, but living with Tony – yeah, he was Tony by then—didn't prove to be too hard.

He was bright, intelligent, and funny. He learned quickly I needed my space and liked quiet. He learned that there were evenings I wouldn't mind watching a movie with him and others when I wanted to be left alone with my boat and my bourbon. And he always made himself scarce the nights I needed a warmer, softer company than alcohol and wood.

I confess I didn't mind too much about his personal life. I knew that his flirting with Kate first and Ziva later never amounted to anything, but for the rest I had no idea if he was seeing someone. I didn't think it was my business. I had given him my blessing to lead his own life outside the office, thus it wasn't my place to investigate what he did off duty.

And then, I can't tell exactly when, things changed.

I changed.

One day I found myself in the gym, staring at Tony while he sparred with Ziva, and it had nothing to do with me checking his technique or assessing his fitness.

I caught myself looking at the way his muscles moved under his shorts and t-shirt and wondering what would be like to feel them bulge and ripple under my hands. What would it be like to run my fingers through his chest hair or taste his skin with my lips?

When it happened, I all but panicked.

Have you any idea of how shocking and unsettling it is to reach the age of 50 and suddenly find yourself looking at another man with lust? To suddenly discover you don't know yourself as well as you thought?

Now, I never had anything against homosexuals or bisexuals. I've known a good share of them in my life, and most of them were fine men and women. But I've always thought that was them and that I was different...and instead I found myself getting hard watching another guy doing push-ups.

But not any guy—just Tony. Watching other men in the gym, did nothing to me. Watching gay porn – yeah, I did that too in my need to understand what was going on with me – didn't make me hard...until the moment I pictured Tony doing some of those things.

It was just Tony who caused those reactions in me, which was both a relief and a curse, since we lived and worked together.

For once in my life, I didn't know what to do. I felt attracted by Tony and once I acknowledged and accepted it, the need to be with him got stronger with each passing week. But, on the other hand, I didn't want to force myself on him. I mean, I was aware that if I made my desires known, Tony would feel duty bound to satisfy them. I could see on the job how he worked hard to please me...It was part of him being my Personal Companion and, as much as I had tried to ignore that fact, I knew that if I asked Tony to go down on his knees in the middle of the squad room, he would do it, no matter the fact many years before I had told him I wouldn't ask him to do things like that.

It was a talk with Ducky that finally pushed me to act on my feelings. Basically he told me that in his opinion Tony had been pining (his words) for me for years and that he thought it had nothing to do with Tony feeling 'duty bound' to me.

So, that same evening, I decided to follow his advice. I waited until after we almost had finished dining and gathering my thoughts I told myself, '_Go for it, Gunny_,' and said aloud, "May I ask you something personal, Tony?"

He looked at me, clearly surprised, and nodded. It's not often I ask permission before doing things. One of my rules states 'It's better to ask forgiveness than permission.'

"What are you? I mean, are you straight, bi or gay?"

His eyes widened as he stared at me. He was clearly stunned, but even so he didn't hesitate in giving his answer. "I'm bi, Boss, with a preference for the male gender."

I nodded at his words, and stared at him as I slowly chewed a piece of bread. The time to act had come and now I couldn't back away.

So I told him what had been bothering me for months, the truth that had shocked me to my bones. I talked slowly, softly, but what I was saying was such a huge confession for me that I hoped he wouldn't mind my hesitation.

"I've never felt any kind of interest for a man and I thought I wouldn't ever…but lately, I find myself…intrigued by you, Tony. Curious to see how it would be…with you. Would you welcome my…interest?"

There, I had said it, and I felt relieved and anxious at the same time. Luckily, I didn't have to wait very long for his response, because it came quickly and in uncertain terms.

"Boss," he began, stopped, and started again. "Jethro…I like you. A lot. And not just because you're the master I always dreamed having. You're one of the finest men I ever met. I-I love you. I have for a long time and nothing would make me happier than to be with you…in whatever capacity you want me. So yes, I would more than welcome your interest."

Ducky had been right! Tony loved me. His declaration was shocking but also so nice to hear. I pride myself not to need anything, but the truth is I have needs too, and hearing Tony telling me he loved me and had for years was like a balm on my wounded soul.

Deciding the time to talk had ended, I stood up. He made to rise too, but I stopped him, "No, stay as you are."

He did, and watched me as I circled the table and walked to him. He looked up at me when I stopped by his side, hovering over him. When I bent forward, and when he realized what I wanted to do, he tilted his head up to meet my mouth.

Our first kiss was just a brushing of lips. I pulled away almost at once, my tongue sliding over my lips to sense if they were still there after I had, well, just kissed a guy. But it hadn't been a real kiss, so I dived in for another, putting more pressure behind it.

Tony responded at once, parting his lips, and giving me the chance to explore his mouth. I accepted his offer and tasted him for the first time. His flavor went straight to my cock, and I plunged in again for more kisses. When I finally pulled back, I saw him looking at me with bright eyes and swollen lips.

"It's not that different from kissing a woman…" I commented a bit surprised by how easy it had been to lose myself in him. "Just a bit raspy…" I added raising a hand to caress his stubble covered cheek.

Tony smiled and shook his head, "No, kissing isn't that different."

"And the rest? Making love?" I asked, wanting, needing to know more.

"For you it won't be very different…" he swallowed hard and breathed, "Let me show you, Jethro."

I tilted my head, considering his words, "You said for me it won't be very different—and for you?"

"It'll be completely different, but not as much as the physical part is concerned."

I frowned, "Why?"

"Because if you accept my offer, for the first in my life I will make love, not just have sex. I'll be with someone I love and want, not with someone I've been ordered to serve. _That_ will make all the difference in the world for me."

He swallowed hard and I almost did the same when I understood what this would mean for him. It was there and then that I swore to everything in my power to never hurt him.

Reaching out with my hand I told him, "Show me, Tony. Teach me how to make love to you."

I let him take me to my bedroom, waiting for him to give me direction, because, frankly, I didn't know what to do.

It reminded me of my first time with a woman. At 19, already a Corporal, and more than half in love with Shannon, the men in my unit had decided that since we would soon see action for the first time, they didn't want me to die without knowing what fucking felt like. So the little shits set me up with a scary looking hooker, a thirty-something redhead who looked ready to devour me. I felt like snapping their necks, but then Tina, that was her name, had started undressing and touching me and all of my vengeful thoughts had fled out of the window.

I still remember her with fondness. Despite her aggressive looks and manners, she was gentle with me, and taught me a lot that night, so that, when I was finally able to be with Shannon, on our wedding night, I couldn't help but be grateful for those teachings.

That night with Tony was a bit like that, with the difference I cared for him and I minded what the experience would be like for him.

I let him undress me and didn't comment when he didn't get naked too. He made me recline on the bed and murmured, "Let me take care of you, Jethro. I won't do anything you don't like."

I nodded with my head, curious of what would happen next, but still a tad hesitant. I'm used to be the one in charge, in everything I do. Letting Tony lead wasn't a small deal for me…but I trusted him. I had trusted him for years on the job and now it was time to show him I trusted him in other things too.

Our first time was, well, unusual, but by no means unpleasant. Tony was very careful with me, and kept his groin away from me and covered all the time, as if he was afraid the feel or the sight of his cock would spook me. In another occasion I would have probably bristled at the way he handled me, but given the enormity of the step I had just taken, I didn't complain.

Tony made sure that I was completely comfortable and ready for him to make the next move before he engulfed me in his hot mouth. At first it didn't feel that much different than any time a woman had pleasured me, except that it was a man. Then he must have started using his long learned skills and my mind melted beyond the use of thought. I could definitely let Tony do this much to me. He was wonderful. I knew I wanted this feeling forever and for this moment to never end but the sensations he was causing were going to make that impossible.

And when it was ended, he faced me and looked at down at me, his eyes anxious again.

"How was it?" he asked, his voice a bare whisper.

"Good," I answered with a slight smile, "Very good." It had been indeed. I felt boneless and completely satisfied…and not just physically, which was a sensation I hadn't felt in long time.

"Nothing to be worried about, huh?" he teased me, showing all of his teeth in a patented, cocky, DiNozzo smile.

"Nope," I replied, too content and tired to even try to swat his head for his teasing, smug tone.

As my eyes closed, I heard him ask with a small voice, a voice so full of need and longing, "Can I sleep here?"

I opened my eyes again, looked straight at him and for once in my life, I told him what I wanted, with no 'buts' or 'if'.

"I wouldn't want you to sleep anywhere else…not tonight, not any other night."

**-----**

The next time we were together, things went differently. I took the lead, got him naked, explored all of his body and discovered that having a cock that wasn't mine in my hand wasn't unsettling, but kinda of nice. I found it exciting to be able to use the knowledge of what I liked to give Tony pleasure.

I was enchanted by how responsive he was, aroused by the sounds he wasn't ashamed to make, thrilled to see him come in my arms as I came too, warmed by his whispered "I love you" when we were about to fall asleep.

I responded to his declaration with a simple, "I know," as I pulled him closer to me, the only way I had to show him how much I cared for him, because it was far too soon for me to even think of those three words.

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	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize for the delay in posting this, but something serious has happened and I've spent the last days so filled with worry and tension that my face muscles ache because of it. As result I forgot about the fact I still had to post this. **

**-----**

That was the start of our relationship, or maybe just the beginning of the next phase of our partnership. We were co-workers on the job and lovers out of it. Nothing changed in our working relationship and no one but Ducky – who caught us in a compromising position one time when he dropped by unannounced – knew I had decided to follow his advice and that Tony and I were now partners in every way.

Tony always slept with me, because I rested better with him in my bed, and I liked to wake up with him at my side—and I knew it was the same for him. I told him straight from the start that we were equals in bed, that he was free to start things or tell me "no" if he wasn't in the mood…but that never happened. Tony was young, virile and apparently coming off of a six year long dry spell.

I felt at ease in Tony's company, both in and out of bed. We had lived together for six years and we knew each other well. When I was with him, I felt free to be fully myself. There was no need to pretend to be cheerful if I wasn't. No pressure to talk if I didn't feel like doing it. No requests to share my thoughts if something was bothering me and I wasn't ready to discuss it. No subtle or not so subtle insinuations it was time I put Shannon and Kelly at rest and moved on. No clever attempts to make me say "I love you". No trying to make me change some of my habits—nor I ever tried to change his.

There was acceptance, on both sides. We never tried to change the other. We knew how we were and liked each other exactly like that. It was comfortable, safe, and cozy.

I can't sincerely say how much of Tony's willingness to put up with me and the harshest parts of my personality was due to the fact he was my Personal Companion, thus duty bound to accept me as I was, and how much was due to his love for me. I didn't really care. I just felt so damn lucky I had him and was able to share my life with him, that I started thanking the President for giving Tony to me all those years ago.

Now, if you think I was a selfish bastard…well, maybe you're right, I was. But in my defense I can tell you I really cared for Tony's happiness and tried to give him as much as I took, and I always did my best to never hurt him, at least not willingly.

That said, there was one thing Tony tried more than once to make me do. One thing I refused to do for a long time…and that I ended up doing only because he outsmarted me.

This thing was anal sex. Intercourse. Fucking.

Tony had wanted me to take him almost from the start, but I had always said no. Fact was—and is – the mere idea of having a cock in my ass made me sick, thus I extended that idea to my lover too.

I couldn't understand how he could possibly want that, and I was concerned he wanted me to fuck him only because he somehow thought it was his duty to offer it. It was unthinkable for me he might like it.

But I was wrong—Tony does like it.

I saw it on his face the night that I had to kill Michelle Lee. That night I was too keyed up to sleep, too lost in my thoughts, and Tony came up saying he knew a great way to make me relax.

I let him have his way with me, content to let him do all the job only to be jerked out of my complacent mood when he straddled my hips and took hold of my cock.

"What are you doing?" I tried to say, but I never completed the line. The feel of him, tight and warm around me took my breath away and I had to struggle to stop my imminent orgasm.

When I felt more in control I looked up and found he too was staring at me.

"You OK?" he asked, and I knew he would move away if I even hinted I wasn't completely comfortable. But I didn't, because I could see the pleasure on his face and his cock seemed harder than I had ever seen it. I simply couldn't take away a thing he liked so much, not after seeing that look on his face.

So I suffocated my lingering unease and panted, "Yeah, just not as relaxed as before…"

Tony chuckled, clearly happy with my response and replied, "I assure you: you'll be completely relaxed when I'm done with you."

He began to rise and fall over me, first slowly, then more quickly, and I observed him, avidly taking in his pleasure-filled expressions and all the sounds that escaped his lips.

And then it happened: for the first time since we got together, Tony came before me, and I will never forget what he looked like, lost in the ecstasy of his orgasm. It was then that I decided I wanted to see that expression again, and that if some discomfort was the price for it, well, I would pay it. For him…and for me too, because when I came a little behind him, it was so intense I almost blacked out.

**-----**

That happened about one year ago and I can tell you that Tony and I have found a compromise in our bed activities too. So, even if I still prefer mutual hand jobs or rubbing against him to intercourse, I agree to do it when he really wants it. Because I like pleasing him.

Because I love him.

I've no problems in admitting it—although I've not yet said it to Tony, not aloud that is.

But I know he's aware I love him.

I can feel it in the way he keeps telling me he loves me, yet doesn't look at me with the plea in his eyes to return the feeling.

And just a scant hour ago, I felt it in his decision to remain my Personal Companion even when all the others have been set free by Presidential decree, something that, I have to say as filled my heart with happiness I cannot describe. I know many will consider me a selfish bastard, but the idea that Tony is still mine, all mine, because he chose to be so is mind-blowing.

This morning, when I saw him leave for his appointment with the Federal attorney I was sure he would return home a free man. We hadn't discussed the matter, because I felt it was only his decision, and I didn't want to influence him in any way.

But when he returned home one hour ago and called me Master, as he had never done since that very first day, when I had told him I didn't want to be called so, I understood what he had done.

I didn't talk- I acted. I took him in my arms and I embraced him with all of my strength. I might have even shed some tears, I cannot be sure.

When I let Tony go, he gave me a quick kiss and then, as if he was unaware of the incredible gift he had just given me, he went to the kitchen and started looking for food, chattering about how boring the whole meeting had been and how he had been sent to see a shrink after he announced his intention to remain my Personal Companion.

"You should have seen them, Jethro. Eyes bulging, mouths open, they just couldn't believe it. They thought I was crazy."

"And what did the shrink say?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He munched a cracker as he answered, "She told me I was committing a mistake."

"Why?" I whispered, my heart clenching.

"She said that there would be no way back if I changed my mind. That I'll belong to you till the day I die. That I'm yours, but you're not mine. But I know she's wrong."

I swallowed hard and nodded. "She is." _I'm yours Tony, don't ever doubt it_. I thought but didn't say.

"I know." He put down the crackers and muttered, "Do you mind if I shower and rest for a while before dinner? All those talks tired me out."

"Of course I don't. Go upstairs; I'll call you when it's ready."

I watched him go and my gut churned.

I know Tony is aware I love him. I know he can feel my love in my embraces, in my caresses, in my kisses. In the way I let him transform my living room in a super-technologic entertainment center with a plasma screen as big as the window and a sound system that makes the windows rattle when he watches one of his sci-fi movies. In the way I allow him to choose my clothes and dress me up when we've to go to some official reception. In the way I let him convince me to put a Jacuzzi in the master bathroom, and in the many times we share it.

Yes, he knows I love him. But perhaps it's about time I tell him those words aloud.

I told them to Shannon about thirty seconds before I went down on my knee and asked her to marry me.

Haven't Tony and I just got married, in a certain way? His belonging to me is now consensual. He chose to remain my Personal Companion and you can bet I won't let him go until 'death do us part'.

A powerful wave of emotion hits me and I realize that after losing Shannon I had tried three times to replace the red headed love of the first part of my life. I know now that my love for the rest of my life is a brunette and is male. I'm tired of making the same painful mistake over and over and now that I have seen the love I can truly have. I have to take the chance.

Yeah, the time has come. The time is right.

I must tell him.

I take the stairs by two, but I slow down near our bedroom's door. He's probably sleeping and I don't want him to jerk awake because he fears a herd of buffalos has invaded the house.

I walk quietly inside the room and sit down on the edge of the bed, and look as he sleeps, clad only in boxers. I watch his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, and then I bend forward and kiss him awake.

He opens his eyes slowly, and stretches, like a big, lazy tomcat.

"Is dinner ready?" he mumbles.

"No."

"Then why…"

"I love you," I tell him, with no preambles, no introductions, no nothing, just the pure truth.

Tony's eyes widen and I can hear his breath catch in his throat.

"You…" he whispers.

"I love you," I repeat, looking straight into his all too bright eyes, trying to convey all my sincerity with my voice and my gaze.

He closes his eyes and a strange expression appears on his face. It looks like he is savoring those words.

Then his eyes open again and his mouth bends and opens in that broad, cocky smile I love so much and he utters just two words.

"I know."

I grin back at him, bend down again to kiss that smile, and soon all coherent thoughts leave my brain, as everything ceases to exist and my world is reduced to just to Tony and the passion of our lovemaking.

The End

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